This is one of the fastest-selling issues ever of French sporting gazette L'Equipe apparently. The intrigue has even juicier elements than Anelka being sent packing after insulting his coach - the confrontation is said to stem from the fact that Zidane had undermined Domenech's authority by contacting the players directly to suggest tactical changes. These changes were then presented to Domenech, who rejected them (apparently also knowing full well where they came from).
One of the first things to note about the French coverage of the debacle and the performances put in by Les Bleus is that it shows up the fallacy that it is specifically the British media that heaps undue pressure on the national team. If anything the French coverage, at least in this case, is even more scathing. While our papers still evince a certain perverse optimism, the attacks on the French side are absolutely withering. The Ribery scandal and the fact that France look almost certain to not make it out of the group stage (putting them in a worse position than England) might be contributing factors here, though.
But what has struck me particularly is a comment quoted in the Independent:
"By the end of the match, I was supporting Mexico," said Alain, 43, a chef in a Parisian cafe. "They at least looked as if they wanted to play and that football was still fun for them. Our guys - what do they earn? Millions? - looked bored, miserable and as if they didn't give a damn."
You can argue that the deep-seated psychological terror suffered by our players when they pull on the shirt is something specific to England, but this schadenfreude on the part of supporters/impartial observers is something that transcends national boundaries. And it suggests a deep frustration with meritocracy. On the English side too, the amount of money these players are making is freqently raised. And why not? If Richard Seymour is right in 'The Meaning of David Cameron' to say that
"Class is not a status, a culture or an ethnicity. By class, I simply mean the relationship between the minority who own the lion's share of wealth and capital, and the majority who sell their labour to get by"
then the working class-or-not backgrounds of the players are irrelevant. The hugely inflated salaries for those 'at the top of the game' are hardly unrelated to the fact of fans being milked for their loyalty via Sky subscriptions and higher gate/season ticket prices. It's not just in the emotional sense that people are (or have) invested in these players.
As with captains of finance, though, we hear that the players are worth their salaries as that's what's necessary to retain the services of these most talented people. The trouble for footballers, as opposed to bankers, is that we actually get to watch the players doing what they do - badly. There may be differences of opinion on what the causes are for their woes and what the corresponding solutions might be (sack the coach, bring on Joe Cole etc) but there's widespread agreement on the fact that what we've seen so far in this tournament is a malfunctioning team. There's that truism that everyone's an expert when it comes to football. Of course there are difference levels of analysis, more acute points of view, but I maintain that we can all watch the England team and see that they are not only playing badly, but not even enjoying playing. It might not be true that everyone's an expert, but everyone can see and judge what these players are doing to earn their money. And whatever the supposed merits are that make them worthy of their pay packages, the sentiment abounds that, frankly, me and my crippled friend and my blind grandma playing our hearts out against Algeria just because we're overjoyed to be in the World Cup would make for a more edifying spectacle than what was witnessed.
We mutter about bankers not being worth their bonuses and all politicians being corrupt but since we don't have first-hand, visual evidence that ties their actions to our woes (and could such evidence even exist..?), we can still be convinced that this is only cynicism, that it's a judgement that only really applies to a minority. When there's a political scandal, a newspaper sting or a Channel 4 documentary catches someone in the act of abusing their power and influence, the initial sense of righteous indignation felt is quickly followed by a weariness and resignation - having your most cynical, kneejerk opinions confirmed is pretty depressing and we gradually, happily, and perhaps with some relief, revert to a the mildly optimistic default position, while the revelation that our betters are nothing of the sort is re-relegated to the status of a niggling suspicion. That was why at the height of the expenses scandal, the papers rationed their revelations, maintaining the high as best they could, to gradually diminishing effect and to the point where the attempt to relive the excitement of those heady days through the David Laws 'saga' (whatever the rights and wrongs of his position) was a dry, weary clusterfuck that left everyone involved feeling soiled and sorry - the press for going through the motions of calling for one more head, the coalition for going through the motions of 'accepting his resignation', and from anyone else for summoning interest in the news.
Back to the football... and between international competitions, when we don't get to see England in action, we 'forget' that they are a mediocre side and are (cautiously) optimistic again by the time the next one comes around. But while we're watching, the World Cup, perhaps partly for its scale (this is supposed to be the best team our country can produce) brings the reality of meritocracy very close. And we don't appear to like it.
No comments:
Post a Comment